


Garreg Mach's Little Secrets

by IncubiDelights



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Cheating, Consensual Somnophilia, Dubious Consent, Exhibitionism, Face-Sitting, Frottage, Kink Negotiation, Kinktober 2019, M/M, Making Out, Nipple Play, Public Sex, Rimming, Sauna, Sleeping Together, Somnophilia, Spanking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2020-12-01 19:09:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20870261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IncubiDelights/pseuds/IncubiDelights
Summary: 31 different kinks, featuring 31 different M/M couples from Fire Emblem: Three Houses. Originally a Kinktober fic, now being updated whenever I have the time.





	1. Facesitting: Claude / Lorenz

Given Claude’s general flippant nature, Lorenz hadn’t been certain about what to expect when going into a relationship with him. Judging by the off-color comments the Alliance had a tendency towards, Lorenz was already aware of the fact they’d likely fall into bed sooner rather than later. He’d like to think he was better than lowering himself to intimacy in the dusty room of the dilapidated old monastery, but war time made a nicer setting seem unlikely.

After enough time, the inevitability became a reality. Claude pulled Lorenz aside under the guise of Alliance business, only to jump on him as soon as the door to his bedroom was shut behind them. Their lips crashed together as Claude immediately began guiding them towards his bed. It was Lorenz’s first taste of the aggression his lover could carry over into intimacy.

In moments of passion, Claude could become nearly ravenous. He always seemed interested in lovemaking that bordered on ravenous, with only occasional gentle bouts. Lorenz didn’t mind this too terribly, the sex was still consistently enjoyable. It was just a bit surprising how the typically aloof young man became anything but.

Of particular notice was Claude’s obvious oral fixation. He had a clear weakness for the prospect of using his mouth on whatever part of his lover’s body that Lorenz would permit him. There were expected points that Lorenz wasn’t too put off by, like his neck and his cock. Those were typical enough that he didn’t bat an eye, even as he struggled to keep a cool head while that eager mouth attacked his pale flesh. He was too prideful to admit how much the treatment got to him, even if it was obvious in the way he squirmed and writhed underneath his lover.

They were already a few weeks into their passionate affair when Claude took his bizarre fixation to a new, unexpected extreme. They’d stolen away to Claude’s room, just as they always did, and made quick work of their clothes. Lorenz was far from scandalized by the way Claude had all but thrown him onto the mattress, falling down beside him right after. Their lips met for a brief, intense moment before Claude pulled away, looking into Lorenz’s eyes with a characteristic grin, equal parts mischievous and hungry.

“Would you be willing to indulge me in something?” The question was asked with a breathless urgency, an eager delight playing across Claude’s green eyes. It was obvious whatever he had in mind for Lorenz, he was intensely excited for it.

Lorenz had half a mind to question just what was in store for him, he didn’t quite know how he felt about the idea of indulging Claude. Considering the desires he’d been forthcoming with so far, Lorenz was a little nervous about which ones he might have been more private about. Still, he had a terrible weakness for this mean who had such a keen grip on his heart. Even as he sighed and rolled his eyes, he already knew he didn’t have much hope of turning Claude down.

“If I must.” His apparent reluctance was fairly transparent, as it was clear Claude’s excitement was particularly infectious. Lorenz’s flushed cheeks and eager erection were proof enough of that. Still, even his less than enthusiastic seemed to pique Claude’s interest right away. He leaned in to press another quick kiss to Lorenz’s lips before sitting up, already getting to work arranging his lover just so.

“Thank you, Lorenz. You won’t regret it, you’re going to love this.” Lorenz briefly considered a number of biting responses he might be able to respond with, but he was quickly preoccupied with adjusting himself. Claude lied back as Lorenz was made to kneel over him with both knees on the bed, with Claude sliding lower until his head was positioned just below his lover’s thighs. It wasn’t an entirely unfamiliar position, but typically Lorenz would be facing Claude’s face. Now, he was facing away from him, towards his lower body.

What was this supposed to be? Lorenz couldn’t help a shudder that rolled through him as Claude’s hands suddenly began to caress his thighs and ass. “For goodness sake, Claude! What in the goddess’s name do you intend to-” Lorenz’s nervous ramblings were suddenly interrupted by a very undignified squeak as he felt his ass cheeks suddenly spread, allowing for Claude’s tongue to give an exploratory lick over his exposed asshole.

Oh no. Oh goodness no. Lorenz had half a mind to spring up and give an indignant spiel about how this was a new low, even by Claude’s standards. If only he’d had a chance to recover from the shock he would’ve been on his feet in an instant. Unfortunately, Claude didn’t seem eager to give him a chance. One lick was followed by another, and then another, quickly giving way to a rhythm of slow, languid licks that didn’t give Lorenz any chance to recover from his initial shock. On the contrary, they only served to further fry his already overstimulated brain.

This was something very new, and absolutely far too pleasant for how sickening an act it was. The indignity of having someone licking his ass was only outweighed by the shame of how much he was immediately enjoying it. His thighs trembled and his cock throbbed, clear proof that Claude’s talented tongue was having a strong impact on him. Occasional protests still popped up in his head, but they’d morphed into mumbled gibberish and high pitched moans by the time they reached his mouth.

If the enthused rimming wasn’t enough, the way Claude reached up to start rubbing at his thighs only helped turn Lorenz to putty in his commander’s hands. Once the hands on his thighs started to pull down, a burst of panic flared up in the pit of Lorenz’s stomach. His legs were already feeling weak, the pressure of Claude tugging at them was making it increasingly difficult for Lorenz to keep himself propped up.

He reached down to place his right hand over Claude’s, making a halfhearted effort to push it away. “Claude, don’t pull, I’m…” Lorenz’s voice caught in his throat, still too wrapped up in the sensations of Claude’s wet tongue just lathering his ass in his saliva. The tugging didn’t let up, either. If anything, Claude began to pull him down with more fervor. It was inevitably too much, and Lorenz was made to let himself be pulled down right onto Claude’s face.

With the amount of pressure he had to be putting on Claude’s neck, Lorenz immediately made a concentrated effort to lift his hips back up. There was no way that this was done intentionally, Claude wasn’t that foolish, was he? It seemed to be the case though, judging by how his hands kept Lorenz lodged firmly in place, made to keep using Claude’s face as his seat while that damned tongue continued to wriggle against his hole.

With the full brunt of his weight now bearing down on Claude’s face, Lorenz was surprised to find his lover’s tongue growing even bolder. Claude was no longer content with dragging his tongue over Lorenz’s hole and had moved onto pressing it directly against it. He amped up the pressure steadily, pushing it further and further. With the prior treatment, it didn’t take much for Lorenz’s hole to open up and let that probing tongue inside.

With the transition from rimming to full-on tongue fucking, Lorenz had lost all hope of continuing to remain poised. The confident young man was reduced to a squealing mess as he bucked his hips down onto Claude’s face, seeking to bury more of that tongue inside of him. His hole fluttered and clenched as he reached down to stroke his shaft, aided by the pre-cum he’d been dripping while Claude had been eating him out.

With the dual stimulation, Lorenz had no hope of holding out. Already he could feel his orgasm coming on quick, his eyes squinting shut as he stroked himself. “Claude-!” It was the only warning he could manage before his hand stopped at the base of his cock, allowing several shots of cum to spout of the head of his cock. The seed splattered across Claude’s chest and torso, accompanied by a particularly high pitched whine from Lorenz.

Even with Claude still beneath him, Lorenz couldn’t think to do much of anything but lie down. He let himself slump forward without much fanfare, using what little energy he had to push off of Claude and onto the mattress. He let out a heavy sigh, only then realizing how short of breath he felt. He hadn’t even done anything, and Claude had still left him exhausted. The clever man in question sat up from where he had been lying, only to rearrange himself to properly snuggle into Lorenz’s side.

“Thank you for being willing to try that. It’s been something I’ve been wanting to try for a while. And, hey, I think you may have even enjoyed yourself a little, too.” Even with his face pressed down into the bed, Lorenz could just hear Claude’s self-satisfied little smirk, and he hated it. He slowly looked up, glaring daggers at the man.

“You’re disgusting, and you’ve tainted me with your filth.” Lorenz particularly despised the way the lower half of Claude’s face shone with his own saliva. Especially considering that saliva directly was the same thing that made him feel so slimy between his legs. Claude only laughed at the insults, reaching out a hand to smooth back some of Lorenz’s hair, matted to this sweaty brow. He placed a fond peck on Lorenz’s forehead, pulling back and smiling just as broadly.

“Well, I’m flattered you’ll still associate with a lowly cur, such as myself.” Claude wiped his forearm over his mouth and let himself go lax on the bed, content to relax in Lorenz’s company for a good long while. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, wondering if they could sneak a quick nap in before they were expected anywhere. “Think you’ll do anything like this again for me sometime?” Lorenz didn’t answer immediately, having to think on the matter. He couldn't deny enjoying the act, but he could at least commit to a decision to keep this quirk of Claude’s far away from their sex life. After enjoying himself this much though, he was reluctant to turn down the idea.

“I’ll consider it.” Lorenz was good enough to ignore Claude’s chuckle, too tired to deal with putting up any airs at the moment. He contented himself with leaning into Claude’s warm body, letting himself enjoy the chance to relax and not be all put together. At least for a little while.


	2. Spanking: Felix / Jeralt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the intents of this fic, Felix is 18. I know it doesn't really line up with the timing of the plot considering his the month of his birthday occurs after some important plot details, but whatever. Let's just pretend Felix's birthday occurs in the Ethereal Moon.

The morning of his birthday, Felix was surprised to find Byleth at the door of his room, inviting him to tea. In the months since he’d started studying under the ex-mercenary, they’d gotten to know each other a little better. Still, nothing quite so close as friends who might share tea together. Still, Felix relished in any opportunities to spar with his professor. Byleth had real experience in the thick of things, fighting thugs and bandits out across Fódlan in his father’s mercenary band. Any chance to get another shot at him was something Felix wouldn’t dream of passing up.

So Felix went to tea, fully expecting to coax Byleth into accompanying him to the training grounds soon after. The tea was fine enough, and the sweets were acceptable, but conversation wasn’t his strong suit. Byleth did most of the talking, gracious enough to broach topics that Felix was actually interested in. He even brought up a few sword techniques, which instantly caught Felix’s attention. Byleth had a ruthless way about him when he swung a sword. It was brutish, but clearly effective. Something Felix might be interested in learning the mechanics of.

Actually posing the question, Felix was intrigued to hear a little about Byleth’s history, of Jeralt’s careful tutelage. Of course. The former knight captain, the famed Blade Breaker. Jeralt was a man who had played many roles, it was no wonder he would be such a fearsome fighter. He’d learned and adapted to so many kinds of opponents, it was inevitable he’d become so adept at fighting them all.

It was a notion that Felix felt foolish for never having considered before. All this time he’d been intent on sparring with Byleth, but he’d never even considered seeking out the man who’d originally taught Byleth all he knew. Well, it was far past time to change that. Felix stuck around just long enough to finish his tea, before standing with a muttered thanks. He didn’t want to delay any longer than need be.

Felix set a brisk pace as he made a beeline for Jeralt’s office, his intent clear in his rapid steps and the focused look in his eyes. He’d drag Jeralt out of that office by his braid, if that’s what it took. Anything to get the match on the training grounds he craved.

Arriving at the captain’s door, Felix gave a quick rap of his knuckles against the door. He opened it a moment later, after hearing the muffled invitation to enter from inside. Jeralt looked up from his desk as he entered, looking a little confused. Clearly he hadn’t been expecting one of the academy students today. He pushed a report he’d been reading aside as he looked Felix over, quirking an eyebrow as he did.

“I know you. You’re one of the brats that Byleth teaches, aren’t you?” Technically correct, but stated in a way so dismissive that Felix couldn’t help but feel a little indignant. He wasn’t too preoccupied with what other people thought of him, but being treated like a child to his face wasn’t a particularly enjoyable experience. Still, he could look past that if it meant getting a good training session in. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I want you to train with me. In swordplay, preferably.” Felix stepped up and placed his palm on Jeralt’s desk, looking down at the still-seated man. It was a simple request, about as clear as he could make it. “You and Byleth have a technique that’s as unique as it is efficient. I want to learn more.”

The brashness of the request must’ve been just as unexpected as Felix’s arrival. Jeralt looked a little wide-eyed for a moment, but quickly ducked his head and chuckled. Just like that he’d returned his attention to the report he’d been reading when Felix had entered, focusing on it like there wasn’t anyone else in the room with him. It was obvious the man was far from invested in anything Felix had to say. On the contrary, he seemed actively uninterested in his request, and his continued presence.

“You and Leonie, both so clingy. Don’t you brats know I’ve got work to attend to? Train in swordplay with you, hah.” He waved his hand in Felix’s general direction, still not looking up. The old bastard really couldn’t be bothered? “I’m busy right now. Why don’t you go train with your other little classmates? I wouldn’t want to hurt you, anyway.” It was Felix’s turn to look shocked, mouth slightly agape at the way he’d been so quickly brushed aside. The man hadn’t even considered the offer, just made his contemptuous remarks and pointed Felix in the direction of the door. It was humiliating.

“Hurt me? You’ve been at this for well over 20 years. The technique is there, but we both know the body is fading.” Felix’s other palm slapped down on the desk as he leaned in closer, glaring at Jeralt as his excitement was slowly replaced with anger. He could’ve been patient and bided his time, but this wasn’t even a matter of time. It was a matter of Jeralt’s over-inflated ego, believing he was too good to spare even a few minutes to pit his blade against Felix’s. “If you’re so frail you can’t keep up anymore, the least you could do is exhibit a little humility.”

It was a low-blow, intentionally made to demean Jeralt. If he had such a low opinion of Felix, why shouldn’t Felix look down on him in turn. It certainly seemed to catch his attention, judging by the way his eyes glanced back up again. His brown eyes regarded Felix with a quiet kind of curiosity, looking him over just as he’d done before. Silence hung in the air for a moment, and Felix wondered if perhaps the captain was reconsidering the offer. Not how he’d wanted to do things originally, but he wasn’t above goading Jeralt into action if that’s what it took.

Jeralt still didn’t speak, but he did push his report aside and stood from his desk. He slowly and methodically pulled off his gloves as he walked around to the front of the desk, tossing them behind him carelessly. Felix looked up at Jeralt as the man walked up to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He looked down at Felix with a grin, one that didn’t quite look genuine.

“You really want me to show you my experience, kid?”

“Yes.” Felix ignored the degrading moniker, unconcerned with what Jeralt called him, so long as he got the spar he wanted. “You’ve got real-world experience, and I want to see it.” It wouldn’t be like sparring with his friends who were lazy or far from world-weary. This would be a real challenge, one that would actually ask for a demonstration of the extent of Felix’s skills.

Jeralt chuckled at that, tightening his grip on Felix’s shoulder ever so slightly. He looked towards his office door for a moment, before returning his gaze to Felix with that same odd grin from before.

“Alright, just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

There was no time for Felix to react before the hand on his shoulder was throwing him face down against the desk. He gasped as the breath went out of him, caught off guard by the sudden impact. The hand on his shoulder moved to the center of his back, pinning him in place against the desk. Jeralt’s other hand suddenly hitched into the back of his trousers, grabbing both their hem and the hem of his smallclothes and pulling them both down.

“Wait, stop-!” Felix’s bare bottom was exposed to the open air for only the briefest of moments before Jeralt’s wide palm slapped the right side of it. Felix’s words turned into a pain grunt as heat bloomed in his ass, searing pain cropping up where Jeralt had struck him. Goddess, what the hell was this? Was Jeralt out of his mind?!

“Stop? Did you really just ask me to stop?” Jeralt laughed the suggestion off as he suddenly struck the other side of Felix’s ass, grinning at the way the student jolted under his hand. The brat wanted to see Jeralt in action, and now he’d get one better. “You wanted this. Let’s see if you can hold up against this fading body.” The way his words had been so soundly flipped on him stunned Felix into silence, only to be interrupted by a sudden shout as Jeralt spanked him again.

There were a few attempts on Felix’s part to wriggle out from under Jeralt’s hand, but the captain offered him no mercy and kept him pinned fast against the desk. Meanwhile, his hand quickly fell into a rhythm of rising up high in the air and falling fast to strike Felix’s ass with echoing smacks. The sounds of Felix wailing were only just barely drowned out by those load smacks. Anyone passing by would have a clear idea of what was going on by the sounds emanating from Jeralt’s office, and the thought filled Felix with shame.

Even as shameful as he felt, Felix was fully aware of another feeling welling up inside of him. Something that melded with the shame and pain, fusing with them in ways that were having a clear physical effect on him. With his pants and smallclothes pooling around his ankles, and his body being rocked across the desk by the force of Jeralt’s spanking, Felix was acutely aware of the fact that he was starting to get an erection.

Goddess, this was all too much. The pain of Jeralt’s palm constantly hitting him, the shame of being caught off guard and bested so easily, the eroticism of being powerless while Jeralt used him like this, it all added up. Felix’s eyes squeezed shut as a few tears spilled forth, while some errant moans worked their way in among his shouts and grunts. The contrasting feelings were merging together in ways that made them difficult to differentiate. Did Felix hate this, love this, know he deserved this? It was impossible to say at this point.

The only certainty that Felix felt anymore was a certainty that he was no longer eager to fight against any of this. Rather than squirming and writhing, Felix became a little more complacent while Jeralt continued his assault. He even went as far as to give a slight arch of his back, allowing Jeralt easier access to his quickly-reddening ass. The act didn’t go unnoticed by Jeralt, who stayed his hand for a moment and gave another knowing laugh.

The touch of grazing fingers against his painfully sore behind caused Felix to jump, and a full-on caress had him groaning aloud. “Well, you look a lot more well-behaved now, don’t you?” Jeralt suddenly squeezed Felix’s ass, savoring the sound of the boy squealing in pain. His handprint had been imprinted onto that once pale ass in a spectrum of reds and pinks, a gorgeous sight in his humble opinion. He removed his hand, only to give Felix another swat that had him bucking against the desk.

In his vulnerable state, Felix didn’t dare to speak up or open his eyes. It would be too much. He just stayed perched on the desk, keeping his hips raised and his chest pressed down even without Jeralt to hold him there. The sound of a drawer opening and some rattling around clued Felix in that Jeralt was looking for something, and the shut of the drawer was confirmation he’d found it. The sound of his footsteps coming back up behind Felix built up an intense anticipation, culminating in yet another slap on his ass as Jeralt took up the space behind him yet again. 

The sudden sensation of oil dripping onto his ass had Felix gasping, the contrast of the cool liquid on his heated ass shocking him out of his stillness. He opened his eyes and looked back over his shoulder, seeing Jeralt pouring more of the oil over his own erection. The knight’s eyes flicked up as he noticed Felix looking back at him, suddenly grinning like the cat that caught the canary. “What? You thought I’d just let you run out of here after you just started behaving?”

Jeralt quickly set the bottle aside as he stepped forward and pressed his cock against Felix’s ass, not hesitating to start pushing inside him. The room quickly filled with the sounds of Felix struggling to keep from crying out, only to give in and shout out loud once Jeralt’s hips hit his sore ass. The slow push of Jeralt’s cock in and out of his ass was overstimulating, and Felix was struggling just to keep it all together.

Of course, Jeralt gave him another slap on the side of the ass as he fucked him, bringing a fresh set of tears to Felix’s eyes. The young noble gripped the edge of the desk as he braced himself, knowing full well he’d have a lot more in store for him. Considering the way he’d prodded Jeralt before, he felt certain he wouldn’t be leaving this room until he was sore all over and walking very funny. 

Next time, he’d just settle for training with Byleth.


	3. Nipple Play: Byleth / Alois

Having specialized in axe fighting, Alois had built up some solid muscle on his upper half. Swinging around such heavy weapons necessitated a very strong core, as well as a powerful chest. Alois had achieved success in each, giving him the top heavy frame that was obvious even beneath his armor. It was a practical decision, one made only for the sake of turning him into a more effective soldier. He still devoted a fair amount of time to honing his lower body as well, but not to the same degree as the rest of him.

After a rigorous day spent at the training grounds, Alois often paid a visit to the nearby sauna. A visit to the steam room was bliss on his sore muscles, and a chance to sweat the day’s troubles away helped him relax. It was one of his few moments for quiet reflection as well. Typically, he was nowhere as serene and placid as he was in the silence of the steam room.

He’d managed to rope Byleth into sparring with him today, bringing the young professor to the training ground. A chance to spar with someone new was greatly appreciated, giving Alois an opportunity to apply his strength in new ways. Byleth was undeniably skilled, and it took all Alois had learned in his years of service just to keep up. Their training blades clashed together so fiercely that Alois half expected them to snap right in half. The two built up a sweat as they continued going at it for the better part of the afternoon. It wasn’t until the sun began to set when Alois finally lowered his weapon, waving his hand at Byleth from across the grounds.

“Alright, alright! I think that’s more than enough for today! Excellent work!” Alois beamed at Byleth as he watched him lower his weapon in turn. The two of them put their weapons up before heading out of the training grounds, feeling a satisfying kind of soreness in their muscles. “I always take some time to visit the aauna’s steam room after training! Care to join me?” Alois clapped a hand on Byleth’s shoulder while he gestured to the adjacent facility. More people tended to stop by at night, so Alois hoped they could slip in before it got too crowded.

Byleth looked up at the Sauna as Alois made the offer, silently considering it for a moment. He soon smiled and nodded, equally happy for a chance to relax his sore body. It was painfully rare to have the chance to indulge in something like a sauna while on the road with the mercenary company. Might as well take this chance to enjoy it while he had it.

The two headed up to the sauna without delay, heading straight for the changing room. In a short few minutes, the two had traded their clothes and armor for nothing more than a pair of towels around their waists. Alois led their way to an unoccupied steam room, happy to see they’d arrived before any evening rush. As happy as he typically way to engage with any number of friends, this really was his peaceful time. He didn’t mind sharing that with Byleth, though.

Inside the room, Alois was instantly assaulted with the heat of heavy steam, sighing heavily. The attendant must have just poured some water on the coals. The heat was fresh and fulfilling, and was an instant balm on his tired body. Alois savored the feeling as he stepped in, collapsing onto a bench with a grin that bordered on dopey. This, this right here. This was all he could have asked for in the moment. He briefly considered adding a steam room of his own to his house when he was finally able to return. Sharing this with his wife and child would be even better.

Byleth entered the room right behind him, a little more conservative in his appreciation for the steam. He smiled and stretched, giving a content little moan. He didn’t stop by as often as Alois seemed to, but he definitely enjoyed a chance to drop by when he found the free time. He had his own slowly mounting stresses, with the responsibilities of so many students to look out for. Any way to alleviate some of those worries was always greatly appreciated. This was as fine a way to do that as any.

Crossing the room, Byleth took a seat besides Alois on the same bench. He sighed and stretched out his arms a little, already beginning to feel a little rejuvenated. He accidentally brushed his elbow over Alois’s chest, but didn’t get a chance to apologize before he heard a sharp gasp. He looked over to the knight in concern, frightened he might’ve hurt his companion in some way. It wasn’t as if he’d jabbed Alois with his shoulder, it was just a graze, what was the matter.

Looking over, he was surprised to see Alois cupping one pec with both hands, covering it up with his fingers. He looked red, as anyone would in a steam room, but a little more than might’ve been expected. Like his face was flushed. He must’ve noticed Byleth’s concern, as he suddenly looked away, chuckling uncomfortably.

“Aha, forgive me. I’m just a little…” Alois bit his lip for a minute as he searched for the right word. How to put this? It wasn’t something that would typically come up in normal conversation, so he wasn’t quite sure how to bring it up. He hesitantly brought his hands away from his broad pec, revealing his hard nipple. “...Sensitive.”

Byleth looked intently at Alois’s stiff nipple, surprised at how it had perked up like that. He’d just barely grazed him! Just how sensitive was Alois’s chest? The question caught in Byleth’s mind, drawing his eyes over to Alois’s other pec. His other nipple was still wasn’t perking up, still being untouched. It provided ample opportunity to find out. Byleth suddenly leaned in, reaching across Alois to pinch his other nipple.

The sudden shout that ripped out of Alois was quickly muffled as he covered his mouth with his hands, looking towards the door in horror. If anyone heard a shout of that volume, they’d certainly come running. Letting anyone else see him like this was the absolute last thing he wanted. He kept his mouth covered as he shuddered under Byleth’s touch, his other nipple growing just as hard as his first. Goddess, his chest was absolutely too sensitive for him to deal with this.

With both of Alois’s nipples now clearly hard, Byleth could only gauge by the man’s reactions just how sensitive he really was. The muffled grunts and moans were a clear indicator, even from behind his two hands. The shivers running through his body were another dead giveaway that the poor man was absolutely falling apart, and Byleth was strangely enticed by it. Something about the way this strong warrior was reduced to putty in his was particularly addicting.

Boldness overtook Byleth as he suddenly climbed over and up onto Alois’s lap, shedding his towel as he straddled the man. Alois finally managed to pry his hands away as he looked at the situation in horror, feeling the professor’s hard cock pressing up against his torso. What the hell was he doing, and why was it leaving him feeling like a blushing schoolgirl?

He quickly reached down to place a hand on Byleth’s shoulder, gently trying to push the younger man away. “Byleth, stop this! Someone could walk in at any-” Alois’s words were cut off by a sudden shout yet again, pulled out of him as Byleth suddenly reached down and latched his mouth onto Alois’s right nipple. The left was attended to by his hand yet again, pinching and rolling it between two of his fingers.

The dual stimulation all but drove Alois mad. His legs kicked involuntarily, unfurling his own towel from around his hips. His own erection sprung up, smacking into the curve of Byleth’s ass. The professor didn’t seem to take notice though, paying it no mind as he continued working Alois’s tits. He sucked, nibbled, and licked at the nipple in his mouth, savoring the way that Alois fell apart before him. He didn’t even seem concerned with covering up the noises he was making anymore, letting his guttural moans and eager yelps out, uninhibited.

The whole situation was so bizarre, but Alois was quick to give into the sick pleasure of his poor nipples getting absolutely tortured. He reached down without a word and tangled a hand into Byleth’s hair without a word, pulling his head closer and silently encouraging him. It was all the confirmation Byleth needed, and he devoted himself to sucking and tugging with twice as much enthusiasm as before. His teeth toyed with the nipple in his mouth again before actually biting down, pinching the sensitive areola between his incisors.

It was the final bit that finally pushed Alois right over the edge. “A-Ah, Byleth, Fuck-!!” His voice rose in pitch as he suddenly came, shooting a few ropes of cum over Byleth’s back and ass. Goddess, he hadn’t even been touched down there and he’d popped his cork like a virginal teenager. At least the steam helped cover up his anxious blush. Byleth slowly pulled away from Alois’s chest with a sudden sense of pride. The second he’d felt Alois pause and tense up, he was pleasantly surprised by how accomplished he’d felt.

Suddenly eye to eye again, there was a pregnant pause between the two before Byleth finally took the initiative. He leaned in to press his lips to Alois’s, lashing his tongue into the older man’s mouth. It took a little bit of time, but Alois eventually began to reciprocate, wrapping an arm around Byleth’s neck and gripping his ass. In a little while, he’d grapple with the implications of his little affair. For now, he just wanted to relax and put a little more water on the coals. The steam was starting to thin, and the room was starting to cool. With what he’d just been through, he’d need some extra time in the heat.


	4. Exhibitionism: Seteth / Cyril

It was difficult for Seteth to pin down just where some of his more out there fantasies came from. Being as old as he was, he’d naturally seen a number of carnal acts that were far from typical. Over time, he’d developed his own bizarre affinities. It was strange, and all but impossible to explain, but Seteth longed for an opportunity to indulge his wishes all the same. Eventually, his desires came to a point where he couldn’t deny them anymore.

The notion of anything resembling romance was still odd in his mind, with thoughts of his late wife still fresh in his head, but time was an enigmatic thing. After so many years, a mutual attraction had struck him again. It’d been just recently that he’d begun an odd sort of relationship with Cyril. It was a little uncomfortable at first, seeing how Seteth had witnessed him grow from a baby-faced teen to the young man he’d become, but the infatuation struck all the same. The Almyran had even been the one to initiate things, following advice Seteth had given him to pursue the things in life that he wanted.

The memory brought a nostalgic smile to Seteth’s face. It’d all happened only a few short months ago, but it felt like it had been ages. He supposed that was an unfortunate truth of war. Time would inevitably march on, and faster than he would’ve liked.

Still, at least he could face it with the man he was so fond of. Cyril was a good man. Even when Seteth had finally mustered up the courage to approach him about his desires, Cyril never made him feel lesser. Sure, he was shocked and a little off-put at first, even made a few off-color remarks, but he was quick to retract his harshness when he saw Seteth’s expression. No matter how odd the request, it seemed he had an undeniable weakness for his lover.

Perhaps it was a little manipulative to play on that weakness, but it wasn’t as if Cyril was unwilling. He was just uncertain of the idea. If Seteth could help shift that apprehensive agreement into unbridled enthusiasm, he’d be that much happier for it. And Cyril did always love seeing those tired eyes complemented by a genuine smile.

So they’d arranged to give Seteth’s little fixation a shot. Let him indulge in it and take a break from the taxing day to day reality of a war against the Empire. He didn’t say much about it, but Cyril saw the little ways that Seteth was obviously suffered in silence. Not just the bags under his eyes, but also in his oft-slumped shoulders and ever-present frowns. Doing away with those things was worth doing for Seteth’s sake, even if only for a day.

For his part, Seteth was good enough to arrange the whole thing. He’d proposed for them to do the whole thing on the monastery’s third floor balcony, right outside Rhea’s chambers. With the archbishop still missing, it was rare that anyone came up that way anyway. It was technically an open space, with a low chance of anyone coming through the way that would actually give them a view of where Cyril and Seteth would be. An ideal spot for keeping hidden while simultaneously giving a thrill of a public setting.

Seteth was the first to arrive on the day they’d agreed, walking out onto the balcony with a sort of breathless anticipation. He approached the edge, looking out to the ground below. Soldiers and more milled about the monastery, unaware of his analytic gaze looking down over them. There was a general hum of activity that was plainly audible, though the individual voices were indiscernible. It was a good thing, knowing that any noises he and Cyril might make from the balcony would be mostly drowned out. Even if he was enticed by the thrill of potentially being discovered, the reality of that happening would be more trouble than it was worth.

The sound of approaching footsteps broke Seteth from his thoughts, causing him to turn and see Cyril approaching him. The young man looked a little nervous, even fidgeting a bit with his hands, though not uncomfortable. Even through the nerves, Seteth could spy some eagerness in the way he briskly approached. The sight brought a twinge of joy to his heart, knowing that his lover had come to find some excitement for this as well. It was sweet.

“Hello, Cyril. How are you feeling? Do you still feel up to giving this a try?” Seteth wrapped his arms around Cyril as he approached, pulling him into an embrace. Cyril laid his head against Seteth’s chest, savoring the tenderness for a moment. Now was his best chance, given that things would soon devolve into more depraved fun.

“Yeah, I’m still ready. I skipped my breeches today and everything.” Cyril was grateful for his darker complexion in that instant, his blush wasn’t quite so obvious. Even the simple act of walking up to the balcony without any smallclothes had been exciting in and of itself. Like he was carrying a secret around with him, all the people he passed being none the wiser. Maybe there was something to this odd stuff Seteth was into after all.

“Ah? Very good. In that case, I think we may as well begin.” Seteth stepped back, gesturing to a bedroll he’d set up for them ahead of time. Dragging an entire cot all the way up here would’ve been a bit much and drawn too much attention, but a bedroll was perfectly manageable. Cyril couldn’t help but chuckle a bit as he suddenly busied himself with doing the belt around his waist.

“You’re so damn weird, Seteth.” Cyril’s voice wavered a bit even as he said it, slowly slipping out of his clothes. Seteth’s eyes grew wider by the second as he watched more and more of his lover’s tanned skin be exposed to the open air. More pieces of his outfit hit the floor of the balcony until the Almyran stood fully nude, pausing for a moment before sliding down onto the bedroll that Seteth had provided. Guess this was really gonna happen. 

After finding a comfortable position on the bedroll, Cyril tentatively gripped his erection in his hand. This part wasn’t so hard, but doing it with the sounds of people from just a few floors down was more distracting than he expected. It wasn’t as if any of them would get a look at him, even if they happened to look up, but the feeling nagged at him anyway. Still, Seteth looked so awestruck by this already, it was hard to stay unsure.

Emboldened by his lover’s enraptured gaze, Cyril stoked himself a little more confidently. His head fell back as he gave a little groan of pleasure, playing his reactions up a little. For Seteth’s sake. “Hah, is this about right?” He looked up at the man from behind lusty amber eyes, seeking confirmation that he was doing well.

“Absolutely. Just perfect.” Seteth’s voice came in a whisper, tinged with disbelief. The fantasy was one thing, but living it was something else entirely. The risk of someone coming by at any moment was all too real out here, and it sent a rush of adrenaline through him. Goodness. This was already feeling good, and Seteth himself wasn’t even actively participating yet. There was no rush on that front, though. He was content for the moment just devouring Cyril with his eyes.

“Alright, good. This isn’t so bad, so far.” It was as much of an admission of his own pleasure as Cyril could muster up at the moment. His mind was preoccupied with other things. Primarily, continuing to put on more of a show for Seteth. He reclined back fully on the bedroll, continuing to masturbate while he spread his legs. He’d done another extra bit of prep work before coming here, something he certainly hoped Seteth would appreciate. Though it wasn’t like the man was ever ungrateful.

Just as Cyril exprected, Seteth was obviously very appreciative of the lengths he’d gone to. The man gave a groan as he watched Cyril slip a finger inside himself. Cyril had thoroughly prepared himself ahead of time, using a generous amount of oil to lubricate his asshole shortly before coming up. The effort had seemingly paid off, as the sight of the young Almyran fingering himself while he masturbated had on obvious effect on Seteth.

The years had been kind to the young man. Cyril had filled out nicely since training under Shamir and fighting in the way. His slim frame had bulked up ever so slightly with muscle, giving him a healthier appearance. His natural definition had even improved, showing the underlying strength in his biceps and his very slight abs. It wasn’t uncommon to hear other young women gossip about what a catch he might be, and what other Almyran men might look like. Idle chatter, none of it too important to Seteth. None of them were as intimately familiar with Cyril as he was, after all.

As he watched Cyril, Seteth was quick to begin removing his own clothes. They were all but ripped away as he bared himself, only growing more excited as he did so. Now, it wasn’t just the risk of Cyril being seen, but both of them. If he hadn’t already been hard thanks to Cyril’s performance, the excitement definitely would have had his cock up in a moment. As it was, it only encouraged him to take a more active role in the debauchery.

A smile crossed Cyril’s face as he watched Seteth approach, kneeling and crawling over him. The two stared into each other’s eyes in anticipatory silence before Seteth finally lowered his head and pressed their lips together. A chaste peck quickly turned into a tongue-tangling kiss that wetted both their faces with saliva. Seteth’s hips lowered just as his head had, letting the two men’s cocks grind against each other.

With their shafts pressed together, Cyril’s hand on his on fell away. The slow push of Seteth’s hips cause them to frot together, encouraging fervent moans that got lost in their kiss. The thought that anyone might be able to hear their coupling if they were to listen close enough as equal parts frightening and exhilarating. Both men weren’t sure whether to quiet themselves or let themselves be even louder. It was hard to even consider what they wanted, as their pulled each other even closer.

With the weight of Seteth on top of him, the fast pace of their frotting, and his finger’s continual thrusting inside him, Cyril was close to an inevitable conclusion. His moans rose to a shout that was muffled by Seteth’s mouth as he flexed his finger inside himself, pressing against his prostate one final time before cumming. The Almyran shuddered and turned his head as he shot a load over his toned stomach.

With their kiss broken, Seteth righted himself and sat up over his lover. He reached down to stroke himself rapidly. It only took a few moments before he was adding his load to Cyril’s, ejecting his seed onto the man’s abs, chest, and even one spurt that landed right across his lips. Evidently, he had really needed something like this.

“Ah, forgive me. I hadn’t realized that I was quite so pent up.” Seteth reached down to wipe away the semen that he’d left on Cyril’s cheek, only for Cyril’s tongue to dart out from between his lips and scoop it off his face. Seteth blanched a little, but eventually chuckled. Of course, Cyril wasn’t nearly so fussy as himself.

“That’s okay, it was still fun. Maybe we’ll do it again. I know where to find the key for the greenhouse.” The thought was absolutely too close to the hub of monastery activity, but Seteth was still pleased that Cyril enjoyed himself. And doing it again was a promising thought. He gave a quick stretch before standing up off the bedroll.

“We’ll think on it. In the meantime, join me in my quarters?” Seteth smiled affectionately as Cyril nodded, turning to gather the clothes he thrown aside. For as much as he’d enjoyed this thrill, he felt confident that he’d always be happy coming back to a more typical kind of intimacy at the end of the day. His old heart could only handle so much excitement in a day, after all.


	5. Somnophilia: Linhardt / Caspar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow so it's December now, huh. Life got busy with work and personal stuff and getting something done for every day of October got way past impossible. But I have so many WIPs and outlines left that I figure I might as well just finish this anyway. Enjoy.

No matter how long the war was dragged out, Linhardt found no solace from it all. Each battle only seemed harder and more horrific than the last. The ground was always stained with so much spilled blood. Too much. Using magic was a small mercy in that he didn’t come into direct contact with it too often, but even then he was forced to bear witness to the sight of his companion’s blades cutting into the flesh of their enemies. Even more bloody imagery that seemed doomed to mar his consciousness for the rest of his life.

With how much time he spent sleeping, it was no surprise when his dreams ended up plagued by his trauma. It was shortly after Byleth reappeared when he woke up for the first time, screaming at the top of his lungs and gripping his face so hard that his own nails left marks on his forehead and cheeks. That was a hard night, especially trying to calm down Casapr after he ran into Linhardt’s room still half-asleep, axe in hand.

Caspar actually ended up being Linhardt’s most consistent resource throughout the whole endeavor. Of course Linhardt had to explain what had him screaming so fiercely in the middle of the night. Couldn’t quite wave that away quite so easily. So he’d sat back and explained the issues of his horrors to his old friend. About how he’d seen so much blood, even his dreams were turning to red. 

He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but Caspar had actually managed to surprise him. He’d pulled Linhardt closer and wrapped him up in his embrace, whispering muffled apologies for all that Linhardt had been made to endure. For not being able to help him with this burden. It was an emotional night, and Linhardt couldn’t help himself but let the tears flow as he buried his face into Caspar’s shoulder.

They’d always been friends, but there was a slight shift in their dynamic that evening. Suddenly, Caspar was a little more invested in Linhardt and his happiness. He was still his boisterous and positive self, but a little more tender in some regards. It opened the door for something more to develop between them, and it wasn’t long before they’d both admitted their feelings for one another.

It was just another night spent avoiding sleep for as long as Linhardt could manage. The two sat on the dock of the monastery’s fishing pond, chatting about nothing in particular. It only took a moment of staring into each other’s eyes wistfully before Linhardt couldn’t resist the urge to grab Caspar by the chin and pull him in for a kiss, not letting him go until the two of them were breathless.

It was no wonder that Linhardt opted to take Caspar back to his bed that evening. It was his favorite place to be, after all. Caspar was clearly nervous about the whole thing, but Linhardt didn’t have anything too sinister in mind. Not for that evening, anyway. He saved the more rigorous kind of intimacy for another night. Right there, all he wanted was a chance to fall into slumber with Caspar spooned against his back.

Of course he fell asleep a little faster with those strong arms wrapped around him, but there was something else he was surprised to find. For that whole evening, his dreams were free of the horrific images of gore he’d been plagued with. Nothing but the pleasant nonsense he was much more accustomed to. He must’ve looked shocked when he awoke with Caspar the following morning, considering how his old friend made a quip about his wide eyes. 

Shocked though he may have been, Linhardt decided one thing was for sure. Caspar would be spending nights with him from there on out. If snuggling up to his lover carried the extra benefit of chasing away his worst fears, then it was all the better.

Caspar was predictably a little scandalized about the whole thing. They were just to share a room now, every evening? That wasn’t something that could be kept secret very easily. And what might people think if word got out? Word got out fast among their friends, and all it would take was one instance of Hubert slinking around after dark for people to know.

They were valid protests, but none Linhardt was particularly interested in humoring. Gossip was of no consequence to him. If people talked, they talked. Would that change how much they loved each other, or jeopardize their place in the army? Of course not. Linhardt certainly hoped Edelgard wouldn’t have any objection, at least. It would seem hypocritical, considering how invested she was in Byleth, always consulting her with every little decision she considered. Linhardt and Caspar were no different than them, except they’d finally up and confessed already.

It was sound logic, and eventually soothed Caspar of his worries. He finally relented and started moving a few of his things from his own room to Linhardt’s. Just a few personal effects that he’d need in the morning. And some oil they’d procured from one of the merchants, of course. It was an inevitability that their chaste closeness would take a more intimate turn, and they were pleased to be prepared when that time came.

If closeness in his sleep helped Linhardt doze off, then post-coitus sleep had him snoozing like a baby. Of course Linhardt’s physical stamina was nothing to write home about, but his lack of endurance really became an issue following a romp in his bed. Even with Caspar on top, just railing into Linhardt lying on his back, he was left feeling absolutely exhausted. It was a miracle on nights when he was able to stay awake long enough to clean up. It was so much easier to just lay his head on the pillow and let the comforting sleep overtake him.

It was a good thing Caspar was such a hedonistic lover. He didn’t mind cleaning up after an intense bout, even with Linhardt quickly passing out. Linhardt couldn’t help but feel a little guilty leaving it all to his lover, but at the same time he was all too willing to take any chance to sleep that he could.

His dreams after the latest such bout were particularly enjoyable. Linhardt was just awake enough to register Caspar going through the motions of fixing up the bed and sliding up behind him before fully giving into sleep. His eyelids lowered and he was limp in Caspar’s arms, fully immersed in dreaming. Nothing to think of, nothing to attend to, and nothing to fear. Just a moment to allow himself to slip away into silence.

Whisked away to his dreams, Linhardt was pleased by a distinct lack of anything horrific rearing its head. No memories of dead soldiers or blood running through grassy fields manifesting at the worst of times, just the simple and incomprehensible that was typical of his psyche. It was almost like being back in his younger days, just being able to sleep and dream and feel safe like he was once able to. That Caspar could give him something like that simply by lying beside him was truly astonishing.

Linhardt was deep into his dream when a sudden feeling of something being off invaded him. It wasn’t that he felt unsafe, per se, but it was a notable difference that couldn’t be ignored. It wasn’t enough to immediately wake him, but it did slowly rouse him from his slumber. His eyes fluttered as he slowly took in the room around him, adjusting to the darkness. Caspar must have lit a candle at some point, as a faint orange tint lit the room from a spot atop their bedside table. Odd. Typically Caspar only left the bed for the sake of an emergency, but such urgency seemed unlikely considering he’d had enough time to light a candle when he woke.

Aside from the candle, Linhardt also registered some kind of wetness on the top of his thighs, and a weight on the back of his legs. He was still groggy enough that such things that might typically catch his attention right away weren’t quite as prevalent in his mind. Sensations were very slowly returning to his waking mind, and Linhardt had to really struggle to muster up the energy just to arch up off the bed and look behind him. The fact he’d even fallen asleep on his front was unusual, but was easily explained as he finally took a look behind him. 

The weight on top of his legs was Caspar himself, and the wetness on his thighs was Caspar’s saliva. It was running down from the cleft of his ass, where Caspar’s face was currently buried. The hem of his nightgown had been tugged up just above his hips, leaving him exposed. Linhardt must’ve been deep in his sleep when Caspar began, the feeling of his lover’s tongue inside of him still felt distinctly fuzzy and far away. A feeling akin to enjoying a meal with a head cold. Still enjoyable, though somewhat muted. Linhardt reached back, absentmindedly running his fingers over a shaved side of Caspar’s head.

“...Mmf. Should be asleep.” Whether he was referring to Caspar or himself, even he wasn’t sure. Not that he was complaining. Even though he wasn't typically a fan of being woken early, these circumstances were far from unenjoyable. Linhardt turned his head and let a little groan out into his pillow as Caspar suddenly withdrew his tongue, pulling his head back and gasping in a breath.

“Hah, sorry. Couldn’t sleep.” Caspar’s hands continued to knead and pull apart Linhardt’s ass as he caught his breath, having apparently been eating Linhardt out even more fervently than Linhardt had realized. Just how long had he been at this? “I kept thinking about something you said. About taking you while you slept.”

“...Hm?” Linhardt racked his brain for any memory of when he may have said that. It certainly sounded like something he would’ve said, but he was struggling to remember a specific time now. Even now, his mind was sluggish with sleep. “...I say that?” It was difficult to keep his eyes open, let alone try to string together any amount of coherent thoughts. It was evidently very amusing to Caspar, who gave a soft chuckle.

“You’re still half asleep. It’s adorable.” It felt a bit like a back-handed compliment in this context, but Caspar was the type to be unendingly genuine about such matters. He wouldn’t say something like that to Linhardt with anything but kindness in mind. “You want me to stop? We can call it a night.”

The thought of getting back to sleep was instantly appealing to Linhardt, but he didn’t leap at the chance. There was still a faint buzz of pleasure in the back of his mind that gave him pause. He reached back and ran a hand over his ass, pressing a finger against his slick asshole. Caspar’s spit was still covering much of his butt and thighs, now starting to feel a little chilly from the open air on them. His senses were still dulled, but the pleasure he also felt was undeniable. It was a different kind of sensation too, the sexual pleasure mingling with his sleep-addled mind in such a strange way. 

His curiosity surged, even as his brain was crawling along at a snail’s pace. So long as his interest was piqued, he might as well pursue this.

“No. No.” Linhardt was slightly more alert as he rearranged himself, spreading his legs further and getting into a more comfortable position on his stomach. He removed his hand from behind him, stuffing it under the pillow he was resting his head on. “Want you to keep going.” It was as clear an invitation as Caspar could ask for, and the scrappy young man leapt at the opportunity.

Despite an apparent willingness to stop if Linhardt was in no mood, it seemed Caspar had made the preparations to continue on. It only took half a second for him to reach for their oil vial, which he quickly uncorked and up-ended over Linhardt’s ass. The cool splash surprised Linhardt slightly, but he remained relaxed enough for Caspar to fingerfuck him without any trouble. Slow thrusts of his fingers quickly turned to rapid pulls that had Linhardt struggling to bury his moans in his pillow.

His sense of time must have been a little distorted, as it seemed Caspar had moved over top of him far too quickly. His breath was hot against Linhardt’s ear as the head of his cock prodded at Linhardt’s twitching hole. The excessive oil and fingering had fulfilled their purpose, as it hardly took Caspar much effort at all to slip the entire length of his shaft into his trembling lover beneath him. Even as tired as he was, it seemed that the initial penetration was enough to wake Linhardt all the same.

“Shhh. You’re taking it so good, Lin. Just relax.” Caspar was able to exercise enough self-control to pause after pushing in, giving Linhardt a chance to adjust. It was a bit of a twisted thought, but Caspar had really enjoyed taking his lover while he slept. Of course he thought Linhardt was beautiful already, but something about him in his sleep was just amazing. Infinitely compliant, making only the softest of noises, yet still established to be as willing as Caspar. He loved it

So he was good enough to stay till while he let Linhardt calm down again, until the young man’s labored breaths had evened out. Then until those even breaths came at less frequent intervals. Then until the shifting body beneath him had gone still. With anyone else the act would’ve been painfully awkward or concerning, but with Linhardt it only felt right.

The thrusts of Caspar’s hips were slow and measured as he rocked in and out of Linhardt, never building up to more than a moderate pace. It was enough to rouse Linhardt from his deep sleep, but he never came to a full alertness. He did little more than make the most adorable little sounds into the pillow while he wriggled about unconsciously. Even with a slow pace, it was enough that Caspar didn’t last long.

It wouldn’t do for Caspar to let out the loud moans he typically filled the room with at climax, so he was forced to bite down on his lip as his cock jumped inside of Linhardt. Both their bodies were still as he came, until Caspar finally pulled his cock free. He lowered himself to Linhardt’s side carefully, unwilling to risk waking him. He’d done so good for Caspar tonight, that Caspar just wanted him to enjoy his rest.

Caspar went to little effort when getting ready for bed again. He simply blew out the candle and gingerly tugged down Linhardt’s nightgown before flopping back onto his pillow. Linhardt would probably have some choice words for him in the morning when he found himself dripping onto the bed sheets, but that was a bridge Caspar was more than happy to cross in the morning. For now, all he cared to do was curl up at Linhardt’s side and join him in a restful sleep.

With the blankets pulled back over them, Caspar’s last thoughts were of the quiet mumbling he could still hear from Linhardt beside him. He wondered what kind of vivid dreams this might be inspiring in Linhardt now, before slipping into sleep himself to find out which ones he himself would enjoy.


End file.
